













*bv' 






, » • • 
























"•' ,r .,„ %. ••' aV 















Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year iS6^ by 

CHARLES I. BUSHNELL, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New York. 






THE 



NARRATIVE 



Ebenezer ^ Fletcher, 



A SOLDIER OF THE REVOLUTION, 



Written dy Rhmelf. 



AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES, 



BY 



CHARLES I. BITSHNELL. 




NEW YORK : 

PRIVATELY PRINTED, 
— 1866.— 



r 




GENERAL BURGOYNE. 



TO 



DEXTER FLETCHER, 



OF MOUNT VERNON, N. H., 



THE ELDEST SURVIVING SON OF 



EBENEZER FLETCHER, 



THIS TRACT 



IS RESPECTFULLY 



DEDICATED. 




INTRODUCTION. 




jBENEZER FLETCHER, the author of the 
following narrative, was the son of John 
Fletcher, and was born in New Ipswich, in 
the State of New Hampshire, on the fifth day of February, 
1161. His mother's maiden name was Elizabeth Foster. 
She was the daughter of Abijah Foster, a farmer of New 
Ipswich, and one of the first settlers of the place. 

After receiving the rudiments of a plain, common school 
education, our author, when alDout fourteen years of age, 
was placed under the care of Samuel Cummings, of New 
Ipswich, who built and then owned the mills at Mill 
Village. He continued with him until the spring of the 
year 1177, when he enlisted as a fifer in Capt. Carr's 
company, in the battalion conmianded by Col. Nathan 
Hale, of New Hampshire troops, to serve for the period of 



b INTRODUCTION. 

'three years. The battalion marched soon after to Ticoii- 
cleroga, and composed for a while a part of the garrison of 
that fort ; but on the approach of General Burgoyiie, the 
army evacuated the post, and while on their retreat, were 
overtaken by the enemy at Hubbardton, where a sharp 
action took place, in which Mr. Fletcher was severely 
wounded and taken prisoner. He continued with the 
British for a few weeks, when, having partially recovered 
from his wounds, he succeeded in effecting his escape, and 
after severe trials in the wilderness and among the moun- 
tains, without food or company, he at length reached the 
house of a friend, where he remained a few days, and then 
returned to his home. On recovering his health, he 
rejoined his company, and served the remaining part of his 
term of enlistment, being, in the fall of n79, in the mem- 
orable Indian expedition under the comniaud of General 
Sullivan, and receiving his discharge from the army on the 
twentieth day of March of the following year. 

On his return from the war, he again entered the service 
of Mr. Cummings, his former employer, and after remaining 
with him a while, he at length purchased from him tlie 
mills at Mill Village, and carried them on successfully for a 
number of years. He subsequently engaged in the business 
of trunk making, which occupation he pursued until within 
a short period of his decease. 



INTRODUC IION. . i 

Mr. Fletcher was twice married. His first wife was Miss 
Polly Curamings, an estimable lady, and the daughter of 
Mr. Samuel Cummings, before named. She was born in 
New Ipswich, on the sixteenth of December, 1758, was 
married in 1786, and died on the twenty-sixth day of Feb- 
ruary, in the year 1812. By her, Mr. Fletcher had six 
sons and six daughters. His second wife was Mrs. Mary- 
Foster, widow of Nathaniel Foster, of Ashby, Mass., and 
daughter of Asa Rendall, whose occupation was that of a 
farmer. This lady was born in Dunstable, Mass., on the 
twenty-ninth of December, 1766, became the wife of Mr. 
Fletcher in the month of June, 1812, and died in Winchen- 
don, Mass., on the twenty-fifth day of January, 1851. By 
this union, there was no issue. 

Mr. Fletcher was short in stature, being but about five 
feet three inches tall, and proportionably slim, but remarka- 
bly active in his movements. He had blue eyes and fair 
complexion, and his features were small and delicate. He 
was amial)le in his disposition, modest in his deportment, 
and, though a man of few words, he was cheerful, kind 
hearted, and a good friend to the poor. Although always 
sustaining a moral. Christian character, yet he does not 
seem to have made a public profession of religion until the 
year 1813. He was then baptised by immersion, and 
joined the close communion Baptists of his native place. 



8 INTKODUCTION. 

He was fond of singing, and, at church, he usually sat with 
the choir. He was an exemplary professor of religion, and 
was noted for his industry, and his strict integrity. 

After a life of activity and usefulness, he died in New 
Ipswich, on the eighth day of May, 1831, in the tlst year 
of his age, in the hope of a blessed immortality. The Rev. 
Asaph Meri-iara, then pastor of the Baptist meeting-house, 
preached his funeral sermon, taking his text from the 31th 
chap. Psalms, 37th verse — " Mark the perfect man, and 
behold the upright : for the end of that man is peace." The 
remains of the deceased, followed by a large number of rela- 
tives and friends, were then conveyed to the burial ground 
in Mill Village, being the southerly part of the town of 
New Ipswich, where they w^ere committed to their kindred 
dust. A plain, but neat tombstone, bearing his name, age 
and time of decease, marks the spot of his repose. 

In conclusion, we would state that the narrative, written 
by himself, of his adventures during the Revolutionary war, 
was originally published in the year 1813. In 182T a fourth 
edition had appeared. This was reproduced on the 30th 
day of January, 1863, in the columns of the "Sentinel," 
a newspaper published in Fitchburg, Massachusetts. The 
present issue has been taken from one of the original 
imprints of 1827, that being the author's last revised and 
most improved edition. 



AiEiB^s n^ 



CAPTIVITY & SUFFERINGS 



Ebenezer Fletcher, 

OF NEW-IPSWICH, 

Who tuas severely zuounded and taken prisoner at the battle of 
Hubbardston, Ft., in the year \JJ7, by the British and 
Indians, at the age of 1 6 years, after recovering in 
part, made his escape from the enemy, and 
travelling through a dreary wilderness, fol- 
lowed by wolves, and beset by Tories on 
his zuay, who threatened to take him 
back to the enemy, but made his es- 
cape from them all, and arrived 
safe home. 



Written by himself, and published at the request of his 
friends. 



FOURTH EDITION. 

REVISED AND ENLARGED. 



NEW-IPSWICH, N. H. 

PRINTED BY S. WILDER, 

— 1827.— 




GEJNTEBAL FKASEE, 




N A U U A T I V E 




EBENEZEIi FLETCI IE R, enlisted 
into the C'Ontii)ental Army, in Capt. 
CaiT\s(i) ('()uipany,0 in Col. Natlian 
Hale's (3) Regiment, (1) as a fifer, and joined the 
Ai-nij at Ticonderoga, (■) nndcr the command of 
Gen. St. Clair, (c) in the spring of 1777, at wliicli 
place I was stationed till the retreat of the Army 
on tiic Gth of July following. (7) 

Early on the morning of the same day, orders 
came to strike onr tents and swing our packs. It 
was generally conjectured that we were going to 
hattle ; but orders came immediately to inarch. 



12 NARRATIVE. 

We niarclied some distance before liglit. By sun- 
rise tlie enemy had landed from their boats, and 
pursued us so closely as to fire on our rear. A 
large l)ody of the enemy followed us all day, but 
kept so far behind as not to be wholly discovered. 
Their aim was to attack us suddenly next morning, 
as they did. 

Having just recovered from the measles, and not 
being able to march with the main body, I fell in 
the rear. The morning after our retreat, orders came 
very early for the troops to refresh and be ready 
for marching. Some were eating, some were cook- 
ing, and all in a very unfit posture for battle. Just 
as the sun rose, there was a cry, " the enemy are 
itjpon us.'''' Looking round I saw the enemy in line 
of battle. Orders came to lay down our packs and 
be ready for action. The fire instantly began. (>») 
We were but few in number compared to the 
enemy. At the commencement of the battle, many 
of our party retreated back into the woods. Capt. 
Carr came up and says, " My lads advance, we 
shall beat them yet." A few of us followed him in 
view of the enemy. Every man was trying to 
secure himself behind girdled trees, wdiicli were 



NAEEATIVE. 13 

standing on the place of action. I made shelter for 
myself and discharged my piece. Having loaded 
again and taken aim, my piece missed fire. I 
brought the same a second time to my fixce ; but 
before I had time to discharge it, I received a mns- 
ket ball in the small of my back, and fell with my 
gun cocked. My uncle, Daniel Foster,* standing 
but little distance from me, I made out to crawl to 
him and spoke to him. He and another man lifted 
me and carried me back some distance and laid me 
down behind a large tree, where was another man 
crying out most bitterly with a grievous wound. 
By this time I had bled so freely, I was very weak 
and faint. I observed the enemy were like to gain 
the ground. Our men began to retreat and the 
enemy to advance. Having no friend to aft'ord me 
any relief, every one taking care of himself, all 
things looked very shocking to me ; to remain 
where I was and fall into the hands of the enemy, 
especially in the condition I was in, expecting to 
receive no mercy, it came into my mind to con- 
ceal myself from them if possible. I made use of 

* All we know of this pei-sou is that he came from Coucord, iu the 
county of Merrimac and State of New Hampshire. — Ed. 



14 NARRATIVE. 

my hands and knees, as well as 1 could, and crawled 
about two rods amoni>; some small hrnsL, and got 
under a log. Here I lay concealed from tlie 
enemy, who came instantly to the place I lay 
wounded at. What became of my distressed part- 
ner I know not. The enemy ])nrsued our men in 
great haste. Some of them came over the log 
where I lay. Some came so near I could almost 
touch them. I was not discovered l>y the enemy 
till the battle was over. When they were picking 
up the dead and wounded among the brush and 
logs, I heard tliem coming towards me, and began 
to be much terrified, lest I should be found. I 
flattered myself tliat our men wduld come back 
after the battle was over and take mo off; but to 
my great surju'ise, two of tlie enemy came so nigh, 
I heard one of tliein say, "Here is one of the 
rebels." T lay flat on my face across my hands, 
rolled in my blood. I dared not stir, l)eing afraid 
they meant me, b_y saying, "here is one of the 
rel:)els." They soon came to me, and ])ubed olf uiy 
shoes, suj^posiug me to be dead. I looked up and 
spoke, telling them I was thcii- prisoner, and begged 
to be used well. " Damn you," saj's one, " you 



NARRATIVE. 15 

deserve to boused well, don't you? What's such 
a 3^oung rebel as you lii^ditiug for?" One of these 
meu was an officer, who appeared to be a pretty 
sort of a man. He spoke to the soldier, who had 
taken my shoes, and says, "Give back the shoes 
and help the man into camp." My shoes were 
given back by the soldiei- according to order. The 
soldier then raised me ui)on my feet, and conducted 
me to the British camp. Here I found a number 
of my brother soldiers in the same situation as 
myself. I was laid on the gi-onnd and remained in 
this posture till the afternou]!, before my W'Ound 
was dressed. Two Doctors came to my assistance. 
They raised me up, and exiuuined my back. One 
of them said, "My lad, you stood a nari-ow chance; 
had the ball gone in or out half its bigness, you 
must have been killed instantly." I asked him if 
he thought there was any prospect of my getting 
well again. lie answered, " There is some pros- 
pect." I concluded l)y his rej)ly, he considered my 
case hazardous. The Doctors appeared to be very 
kind and faithful. They pulled several i)icccs of my 
clothes from my woun<l. which wei-e forced in by 
the ball I received. 



16 NARRATIVE. 

Some of the enemy were very kind ; while others 
were very spiteful and malicions. One of them 
came and took my silver shoe-buckles and left me 
an old ]»air of l)rass ones, and said exchange was no 
robbery ; but I thought it robbery at a high rate. 
Another came and took off my neck handkerchief. 
An old negro came and took my fife, which I 
considered as the greatest iusult I had received 
while with the enemy. The Indians often came 
and abused me with tlieir language; calling us 
Yankees and rebels ; but tliey were not allowed to 
injure us. I was stripped of everything valuable 
about me. 

The enemy soon marched back to Ticonderoga, 
and left only a few to take care of the wounded. I 
was treated as well as I could expect. Doctor Haze 
was the head Doctor, and lie took true care that the 
prisoners were well treated. Doctor Blocksom, an 
under surgeon, appeared to be very kind indeed : 
he was the one who had the care of me : he never 
gave me any insulting or abusive language ; he 
sometimes wonld say, " Well, my lad, think you'll 
be willing to list in the King's service, if you should 
get well V My answer was always no. The 



NAEKATIVE. lY 

officers would flatter me to list in their service; 
telling me they were very sure to conquer the 
country, since they liad got our strongest post.. I 
told them I should not list. 

But among all the troubles I met with, I received 
particular favors from two of the British. This 
conduct appeared to me very remarkable; why 
or Avherefore it should be I knew not ; but lie who 
hath the hearts of all men in his hands, o-avc me 
favor in their sight. They wonld often visit me, 
and asked me if I wanted anything to eat or drink. 
If I did, I had it. The first time one of these 
friends came to me, was soon after I w\as brought to 
the camp. 

As I lay on the ground, he asked me if I did 
not want a bed to lie on : I told him I did : he 
went and got a large hemlock bark, and finding 
many old coats and overalls, taken from the dead 
and wounded, he put them in the bark, made me a 
bed, and laid me into it. He built a shelter over 
me with barks, to keep the rain from me, which was 
a great kindness, as it rained exceeding hard the 
next night. He went to a spring, and brought me 
water as often as I wanted, which was very often, 



IS NAKKATIVE. 

being very diy : my loss of blood occasionini;' iiiucli 
thirst. He iisked me, also, if I wanted to eat. I 
answered yes : for liavini;:; eat but little that da}^ I 
was very faint and liungry. He told me he did not 
know as it was in his power to procure anything 
for me, but would go and try. After an absence of 
considerable time (certainly the time seemed long) 
he returned with a piece of broiled pork and 
broiled liver, telling me this was all the food he 
could get : I thanked him, and tokl him it was very 
good. 

The next day lie came and told me lie had orders 
to marcli, and must therefore leave me : was very 
sorry he could stay no longer with me, but lioped 
somebody would take care of me; taking me by 
the hand he wished me well and left me. 

The loss of so good a friend grieved me exceed- 
ingly ; but I soon heard that my other friend was 
ordered to stay behind to help take care of tlie 
wounded. My spirits, wliicli before were very 
much depressed, when I heard of this, were mucli 
exhilarated ; and once more I felt tolerably happy. 
The difference in mankind never struck me more 
sensibly than while a prisoner. Some would do 



NAKKATIVE. 19 

everything- in their power to make me eoinf(trtal>le 
and cheerful ; while otliers abused me with the 
vilest of language ; telling me that the prisoners 
would all be hanged ; that they would drive all the 
damned rebels into the sea, and that their next 
winter quarters wouhl l)e in Boston. They cer- 
tainly wintered in Boston ; but to their great 
disappointment and chagrin, as 2)>'i-so7iers of tvar. 

But to return. My wound being now a little 
better, I began to tliink of escaping from the 
enenl3^ Two of my fellow- prisoners agreed to 
accompany me ; one of them being well acquainted 
witli the way to Otter Creek, (i.) This plan, liow- 
ever, failed ; for l)efore we ]uid an o])portunity for 
making our escape, Doctor Haze called upon my 
companions to be ready to march for Ticonderoga : 
telling them that the next morning they must leave 
this place. Thus I found, that as soon as the 
prisoners were able to ride, they were ordered 
to Ticonderoga. Being thus disappointed I begged 
of the Doctor to let me go with them. Says he, 
" You are very dangerously wounded, and it is 
improper for you to ride so far yet ; but as soon as 
you are able you shall go." Being thus defeated I 



20 NAEKATIVE. 

again resolved to run away, even if I went alone, 
and it w^as not long before 1 had an opportunity. 
As all the prisoners were sent off except such 
as were badly wounded, they thought it unneces- 
sary to guard ns very closely. I soon was able to 
go to the spring, which was at a little distance 
from the camp. Thither I often went for water for 
myself and the Hessians, (lo) who, by the way, 
appeared to be pleased with me. I often waited 
upon them, brought them water, made their beds, 
&c., and found my fare the better for it. I often 
walked out into the woods where the battle was 
fought ; went to the tree where I was shot down, 
observed the trees which were very much marked 
with the balls. Looking around one day, I found 
some leaves of a Bible ; these I carried into the 
canij), and diverted myself by reading them ; for I 
felt much more contented when I had something 
to read. My friend, whom I have before men- 
tioned, one day brought me a very good book, 
which he told me to keep as a present from him. 
This I heartily thanked him for, and whenever 
I was tired by walking would lay down and 
read. 



NAEEATIVE. 21 

On tlie 22d of July, a number of men cume down 
from Ticondcroga, Avitli horses and Utters sufficient 
to carry off tlic remainder of the wounded. Doctor 
Haze came to us and tohl us, that to-morrow w^e 
should all be carried where we should have better 
care taken of us. Says he, " I will send the 
orderly sei-geant, who will see that your bloody 
clothes are well washed." This lie thought would 
be very agreeable news to us. I pretended to be 
very much pleased, though I was determined never 
to go. I told tlie person who lay next to me that I 
intended to run away ; desired him to make them 
believe I had taken tlie nortli road, if they inclined 
to pursue me, for I should take the south. Says 
he, " I will do all in my power to assist you, and 
wish it was possible for me to go with you." 

I made it my business that day to procure pro- 
visions sufficient for my journey. I had spared a 
little bread from my daily allowance, and although 
dry and mouldy, yet it was the best to be had. I 
had a large jack-knife left of wliicli the enemy had 
not robbed me ; I sold this for a pint of wine, think- 
ing it would do me more good on my march than 
the knife, as the event proved. The wine I put in 



22 NARRATIVE. 

a bottle, and carefully stowed it in my pocket. I 
was hard put to it to get my sliirt waslied and dried 
before evening. However, agreeing with some to 
make their beds if they would dry my shirt, it was 
ready to put on by dark. I then went to my tent, 
took off my coat and jacket, and put on my clean 
shirt over my dirty one, and liaving filled my 
pockets with the little provision I had saved, I 
began to march homeward shoeless ; reflecting what 
I should do for so material a }»art of my clothing. 
It came into my mind that one Jonathan Lambart 
had died of his wounds a day or two before and left 
a good pair of shoes. Supposing my right to them 
equal to any other person, I took them and put 
them on. 

It being dark, I went out undiscovered, and 
steered into the woods. After going a little way, I 
turned into the road and made a halt. Now was 
the trying scene ! The night being very dark, 
everything before me appeared gloomy and dis- 
couraging ; my wound was far from being healed ; 
my strengtli much reduced by tlie loss of blood, 
pain and poor living; thus situated, to travel alone, 
I knew not where, having no knowledge of the way, 



NARRATIVE. 23 

I tliouglit would be highly presumptuous. How 
far I should have to travel before I could reach any 
inhabitants, I could not tell : Indians, I supposed, 
were lurking about, and probably I might be beset 
by them and murdered or carried back: and if I 
avoided them, perhaps I might perish in the 
wilderness. 

Reflecting upon these things, my resolution 
began to flag, and I thought it most prudent to 
return and take my fate. I turned about and went 
back a few rods, when the following words struck 
me as if whispered in my ear : Put not your hands 
to the plough and look hack. I immediately turned 
about again, fnlly resolved to pursue my jonrney 
through the woods ; but before morning, had I 
been possessed of millions of gold, I would freely 
have given the whole to have been once more with 
the enemy. The road which I had to travel, was 
newlj' opened, leading IVom Ilubbardston(ii) to 
Otter-Creek. The night being dark and the road 
very crooked, I found it very diflicult to keep it; 
often running against trees and rocks, before I 
knew I was out of it ; and then it was with much 
trouble that I found it ao-ain, which sometimes I 



24 NARRATIVE. 

was obliged to do upon loy liands and knees, and 
often np to my knees in mire. 

Abont 12 o'clock I lieard something coming 
towards me; wbat it could be I knew not. I halted 
and looked back; it was so dark I was at a loss to 
determine what it was : Imt tliunght it looked like 
a dog. That a dog shoukl be so far from inhab- 
itants, I thonglit very strange. I at once concluded 
that he belonged to the Indians, and that they 
were not far off. I however ventui-ed to speak to 
him, and he immediately came to me; I gave him 
a piece of mouhly bread, wliich lie eat and soon 
appeared fond of me. At first I was afraid lie 
would betray me to the Indians; but soon found 
him of service ; Ibr I had not gone far before I 
heard the noise of some w^ild beast. I had just set 
down to rest me, with my buck against a tree, 
my wound l)eing very painful. As the beast 
approached, my dog appeared very much frighted ; 
laid close down l)y me and trembled, as if he 
expected to be torn in pieces. I now began to be 
much terrified ; I however set very still, knowing it 
would do no good to run. He came within two 
rods of me, and stopj^ed. 1 was unable to deter- 



NAKRATIVE. 25 

mine Avhat it was, but supposed it was a wolf. I 
soon found 1 was not mistaken. After looking at 
me some time, he turned about and M'ent oif ; but 
before loug- returned with a large reinforcement. 
In his absence 1 exerted myself to the utmost to 
get forward, fearing he w^ould be after me again. 
After travelling about half an hour, 1 was alarmed 
with the most horrible howliug, which I su imposed 
to be near the tree which 1 rested by. Judge what 
my feelings were, when I found these beasts of prey 
were pursuing me, and expected every minute to 
be devoured by them. But in the midst of this 
trouble, to my infinite joy, I discovered fires but a 
little way before me, which, from several circum- 
stances, I was sure were not built by Indians ; I 
therefore at once concluded they were fires of some 
scouting party of Americans, and I made great 
haste to get to them, lest I should be overtaken by 
the wolves, which were now but a little behind. I 
approached so near the fires as to hear men talk, 
when I immediately discovered them to be enemies. 
Thus disappointed I knew not what course to take ; 
if I continued in the woods, I should be devoured 
by wdld beasts ; for having eat of the bodies which 



26 NAKRATIVE. 

were left on the field of battle, they continued 
lnrkin2; for more. If I gave myself up to the 
enemy, I should certaiidy be carried back to Ticon- 
deroga, and to Canada, and probably fare no better 
for attempting to run away. Which way to esca])e 
I knew not; I turned a little out of tlie patli and 
lay down on the ground to hear what was said by 
the enemy, expecting every moment they would 
discover me : the darkness of the night, however, 
prevented. These howling beasts approached as 
near the fires as they dared, when they halted and 
continued their liorrid yell for some time, being 
afraid to come so nigh as I was. After the howling 
had ceased, I began to think of getting round the 
enemy's camp ; being pretty certain tliat, as yet, I 
was not discovered. I arose from the ground and 
took a course, whicli 1 thought would cariy^ me 
round the enemy's camp. After travelling a little 
way, I came to the foot of a high mountain ; to go 
round it I thought would carry me too much out of 
my course ; I resolved therefore to ascend it ; with 
much difficulty I arrived at the top, then took a tack 
to the right ; travelling that course some time I 
found I was bewildered and lost, and which way to 



NARRATIVE. 27 

go to find the road again I knew not, liaving neither 
moon nor stars to direct me ; so I wandered about 
in this wilderness till almost day, when I became so 
fatigued and worried, tliat I was obliged to lay 
down again. Judge what a person's feelings nmst 
be in such a situation. 

I now repented of my ever leaving the enemy. 
Here I was lost in the woods, with but very little 
provision, my wounds extremely painful, and little 
or no prospect of ever seeing human beings again. 
Thus I lay and reflected, my dog walking round me 
like a faithful sentinel, till I fell asleep ; but was 
soon alarmed with tiie noise of cannon, which I 
concluded by the direction must be at Ticonderoga. 
Never was sound mure grateful to my ears than 
this cannon. I tlioiiglit I might possibly live to 
reach the place, and though an enemy's camp, 
I Avould have given anything to be with them 
again. 

Soon after the morning gun was tired, I heard 
the drums beat in the camp which I had visited in 
the night : this noise was still more grateful, for I 
was sure they were not at a great distance. With 
much difticnlty I got upon my legs again, with 



28 NAKEATIVE. 

a deterniiiiation to go to their camp. I found, 
however, that I could scafrcely stand ; for having 
hiid down wlien I was very sweaty, I liad taken 
cold, and was so stiff and sore, that I could hardly 
move. I now liad recourse to my little bottle of 
wine, which relieved me very much, and then 
began to march towards the drums, which still 
continued beating. 

After travelling a little way, I heard a cock crow, 
Avhich appeared near the drums. I thought it 
of little consequence which object to pursue, both 
being nearly in the same direction. But the noise 
of the drums soon ceased, and I steered for the other 
object, which soon brought me into open land and 
in sight of a house. I got to the door just as the 
man arose from his bed. After the usual compli- 
ments, I asked him how far it was to the British 
encampments ? He answered about fifty rods. 
'' Do you want to go to them ?" says he. I never 
was more at a stand what reply to make. As none 
of the enemy appeared about the house, I thought 
if I could persuade this man to befriend me, I 
possibly might avoid them ; but if he sliould prove 
to be a tory, and know from whence I came, he 



NAEKATIVE. 29 

would certainly betray me. I stood perhaps a 
minute witliout saying a word. He seeing my con- 
fusion, spoke again tome: "Come," said he, "come 
into the house." I went in and sat down. I will 
tell you, said I, what I want, if you will promise 
not to hurt me. He replied, " I will not injure 
you, if you do not injure us." This answer did not 
satisfy me, for as yet I could not tell whether he 
would be a friend or foe. I sat and viewed him 
for some minutes, and at last resolved to tell him 
from whence 1 came and where I wished to go, let 
the event be what it would. I was a soldier, said 
I, in the Continental army, was dangerously wounded 
and taken prisoner, had made my escape from the 
enemy, and after much fatigue and peril, had got 
through the woods, being directed to this house by 
the crowing of a cock. He smiled and said, "You 
have been rightly directed, for had you gone to 
either of my neighbors, you undoubtedly would 
have been carried to the enemy again ; you have 
now found a friend, who will if possible protect 
you. It is true they have forced me to take the 
oath of allegiance to the king ; but I sincerely hope 
the Americans will finally prevail, for I believe 



30 ' NARRATIVE. 

tlieir cause to be just and equitable ; should tliey 
know of my harboring rebels, as they call us, I 
certainly should sutler for it. Anything- I can do 
for you without exposing my own life, I will do." 
I thanked him for liis kindness, and desired him not 
to expose himself on my account. 

After givino; me something to eat and drink, he 
concealed me in a chamber, where he said I might 
stay till the dew was off and then go out into some 
secret place in the buslies, there to continue till 
night : this lie said was necessary, as the enemy 
were often plundering about his house, and if I con- 
tinued in it, I should probably be discovered, 
which would ruin him. A little boy was set as a 
sentinel at the door, wdio was to give notice if the 
enemy came near. I had not been in the house 
half an hour, before a number of them came in, but 
with no other design than to buy some rum and 
milk, and to l)orrow a pot for cooking. 

As soon as they were gone, the woman came into 
the chamber to dress my wound. She washed it 
with rum, applied dressings, and bound it up as 
well as she could. She showed every mark of kind- 
ness to me, but her husband, whose name was 



NARRATIVE. 31 

Moulton, ill a day or two after I got to liis house, 
was pressed by tlie enemy to bring stores from 
Skeensborough*(ii) with his team, and I never saw 
the good old man any more. His wife was in much 
trouble, lest the enemy should find me in the house 
and be so enraged as to kill all the family. She 
permitted her little boy to guide me to the bushes, 
where I might secrete myself: she gave me a 
blanket to lie on. The boy went with me to my 
lurking place, that I might be easily found, so as to 
receive refreshment. When night came on, I was 
called by the boy to the house again, and took my 
old stand in the chamber ; the woman feared I 
should receive injury by lodging out of doors. She 
informed me that a man would lodge there that 
night, who was brother-in-law to her husband ; and 
who had actually taken up arms against his 
country. I told her I apprehended danger from 
tarrying in the house ; she said there would not be 
any ; I then lay snug in my straw. 

In a short time the tory came lor some drink ; 
the indiscreet woman tokl him she had an American 

* In Wasliington County, in the State of New York. It is now known 
as White Ha\\.—Ed. 



32 NARRATIVE. 

in the chamber, avIio had been taken prisoner b)' 
the British and had escaped. He asked lier what 
kind of a man I was. She told him I was a young- 
fellow and wanted mneli to get liome, and begged 
that I might not be taken back to the enemy or 
betrayed. His answer was very rough, and I began 
to think I was gone for it. I expected to be forced 
back ; but the woman interceding so hard for me, 
softened the ferocity of my tory enemy. Knowing 
I was discovered, I crawled from my hiding place, 
and began a conversation with the man. He asked 
me if I belonged to the rebel service ? I told him 1 
belonged to the Continental service. " What is that," 
says he, " but the rebel service ?" He addressed 
me in very insolent language, and said he was 
very sorry to have me leave the king's troops in the 
manner I had done, and he would have me to 
know I was in his hands. I was patient and mild 
in my situation, telling him I was at his disposal. 
My good mistress often put in a word on my 
behalf. 

After some time spent in tliis way, the man 
asked me if he should chance to be taken, and in 
my power as I was in his, whether I should let him 



NARRATIVE. 33 

escape? I told liim I slionkl. "Then," says he, 
" if you will promise this, I will not detain you ; 
also, that if you are retaken before you reach home, 
you will not inform, that you have seen me, or have 
been at my brother's." I gave him my ])romise. 
His advice to me was immediately to set out, for 
if I should stay long I inight be picked up by some 
person. " And,'' says he, " I advise you to travel 
in the night, and hide in the day, for many volun- 
teers are reconnoitering up and down the country." 
I concluded to travel ; but mj feeling landlady 
thought it best to stay a few days longer. My 
friend tory said it was best for me to travel as soon 
as possible. "If yon are determined to go to-night," 
said the woman, " I will dress your wound and give 
you food for your journey." I told her I would go 
as soon as possible. She then dressed my wound 
for the last time, and lilled my pockets with good 
provision. After thanking her for her kindness, it 
being all the compensation I could make, and I 
believe all that she desired, I left her. 

But before I proceed on my journey, I must tell 
you, that my dog, who had accompanied me 
through many dangers, I was obliged to drive from 



34 NAEKATIVE. 

me ; when in the chamber, he wonki commonly lay 
at the foot of the stairs. Mrs. Moulton often told 
me, she was afraid he would betray me, for as the 
enemy were often in, should they see the dog, 
might suspect that somebody was in the chamber. 
I told her, with much regret, to drive him away ; 
she with her little l)oy tried all in their power to 
get rid of him, but in vain; the dog would stay 
about the house ; at length she called me to drive 
him away ; I came down, and after much difficulty, 
effected it. 

But to return. After being told tlie course I 
must take, I began my journey in the night, which 
was dark and cloudy, through the woods. I had 
not travelled more than two hours, before I got lost. 
I concluded I had missed the road, and having 
reached the end of one I was then in, began to 
think of going back. My wound began to be very 
painful, and I was so sore, I could scarcely go. 
While I was seeking for the road again, there came 
up a thunder shower, and rained fast. I crawled 
into an old forsaken hovel, which was near, and lay 
till the shower was over ; then went back half a 
mile and found the road once more. The road 



NARRATIVE. 35 

being newly opened through tlie woods was very 
had, and it was with much difficulty I could get 
along, often tumbling over roots and stones, and 
sometimes up to my knees in mire. I once fell and 
was obliged to lay several minutes, before I could 
recover myself. 

About 12 o'clock at night, as 1 was walking in 
this wilderness, I was surprised l>y two large wild 
animals, which lay close by the road, and started 
up as soon as they saw me ; ran a few rods and 
turned about towards me ; whether they were 
bears or wolves, I could not tell ; I was, however, 
exceedingly terrified, and would have given any 
thing for my dog again. One of them followed me 
for a long time ; sometimes would come close to 
me, and at others, kept at a considerable distance. 
At last he got discouraged and left me, and cer- 
tainly I did not regret his absence. 

At daylight, I came to open land, and discovered 
a house belonging to Col. Mead, I was not a little 
rejoiced to see his house, as I knew he would be a 
friend to me; but my joy was of short continuance, 
for as soon as I looked into the door, I saw marks 
of the enemy ; every thing belonging to the house 



36 NARRATIVE. 

being carried olt" or destroyed. 1 thouglit it not 
prudent to go into the house lest some of the enemy 
niiglit be within ; so I passed on as fast as possible ; 
it now began to grow light ; and wdiat to do with 
myself I could not tell. My friends had advised 
me to lay concealed in the day time and travel in 
the night. 

When I viewed the depredations the enemy had 
made on the inhabitants, and many uf whom had 
fled ; not knowing how far I must travel to find 
friends, and my wound being very troublesome, I 
reflected long, whether to tari-y and be made 
prisoner, or push forward through a dreary wilder- 
ness ; death seemed to threaten me on all sides: 
however, I collected resolution suflicient to make to 
the east ; I conceived myself exj)osed by my uniform 
and bloody clothes ; to prevent a discovery by any 
who should be an enemy, I took oft' my shirt and 
put it over my coat, by which my uniform was 
covered ; in this line I marched ; it being the 
orders of the British for all tories, who came to join 
them, to appear in tliis dress, I considered myself 
protected. 

I travelled till the middle of the day, before 



NARRATIVE. 3Y 

I saw any person ; I tlien met a man driving 
cattle, as I supposed, to the enemy. He examined 
me closely, and enquired if I -was furnished with a 
pass. I gave him plausible answers to all his 
questions, and so far satisfied him as to proceed 
unmolested. I enquired of him, if he knew one 
Joshua Priest : he told me he did, and very readily 
directed me to the place where he lived. Leaving 
this man, I had not travelled far, before I met a 
number more, armed ; being within about fifty rods 
of them, I thought to hide myself, but found I could 
not ; I then made towards them, without any appa- 
rent fear. Coming up to them, I expected a strict 
examination ; but they only asked me how far it 
was to such a town : I informed them as well as I 
could, and pushed on my way. 

Being within a mile and a half of said Priest's, 
I saw two men making towards me ; they came to 
a fence and stopped ; I heard them say, " Let's 
examine this fellow, and know what his business 
is." One of them asked me where I was going. I 
told him to Joshua Priest's ; he asked me my 
business there : I answered him upon no bad 
errand : He says you are a spy ; I told him I was 



38 NARRATIVE. 

no spy. I did not like the fellow's looks, therefore 
dropped tlie conversation witli liini, believing he 
was one of the enemy. I resolved not to converse 
witli any one, till I had arrived at Priest's, unless 
compelled to. Being almost overcome with fatigue, 
I wished for rest ; however, these men seemed 
determined to stop me or do me some mischief, for 
when I walked on, they followed me upon the run, 
and in great rage told me, I should go no further, 
until I had made known to them who and what I 
was ; saying, they had asked me a civil question, 
and they required a civil answer. I told them 
if they would go to Priest's, I would tell them all 
the trnth and satisfy them entirely ; repeating to 
them I was no spy. They said they did not mean 
to leave me till they were satisfied respecting me. 
I then, in short, told them what I had before in 
the wdiole, and added, that I was well acquainted 
with Priest, and intended to tarry with him some 
time. 

We all arrived at Priest's, who at first did not 
recollect me. After some pause, he told me he was 
surprised to see me, as my father (13) had informed 
him I was slain at Hubbardston. I told him, I was 



NARRATIVE. 39 

yet alive : but liad received a bad wound. His 
family soon dressed my wound and made me com- 
fortable. 

I then in the presence and hearing of my tory 
followers, told Priest the story of my captivity 
and escape : also repeated the insolent language 
used by the tories towards our people, when prison- 
ers with the enemy, finding Priest my friend, I 
said many severe things against the tories, and fixed 
my countenance sternly on those fellows, who had 
pretended to lord it over me and stop me on the 
way. They bore all without saying a word, but 
looked as surly as hulls. 

I soon found these tory. gentry had premeditated 
carrying me back, and were seeking help to prose- 
cute their design. My friend Priest loaded his 
gun, and said he would give them a grist, if they 
dared come after me : but failing of getting any 
persons to join them, I was not molested. 

I could often hear my tory followers' threatenings 
against me, to take me back, saying, I should be 
able to fight again, and do injury to the enemy. I 
feared these tories would do hurt, but my fears 
were quieted by finding the neighbors were my 



40 NARRATIVE. 

friends, and would afford me their protection. But 
I will write one more tory plan. 

After being at Priest's about ten days, there 
came, one morning, a number of persons to see me, 
and appeared very friendly and much concerned, 
lest I should be taken by the enemy. They 
informed me a man Jiad arrived from Burgoyne's 
army, and a party of Indians was to be sent forward 
-to guard the town where I was, and protect the 
tories and their property ; our people coming twice 
while I was at Priest's to take toiy property. 
These people told me an honest stor}^, and advised 
me to travel immediately. Being desirous to get 
home, I told my friend Priest I would not stay any 
longer. He Bays, '' Don't be scared, I apprehend 
no danger from the Indians, tarry yet awhile, for 
your wound is not healed ; you are not able to 
travel through the woods : but do as you think 
best." These men cried out, "• Escape, escape, for 
your life : Indians will be upon you before to-mor- 
row night." 

Having resolved to go on, my friends furnished 
me with provision sufficient for my journey. With- 
out doubts or fears. I went on my way, and after 



NARRATIVE. 41 

travelHni^ all day I arrived at a place called 
Ludlow. (14) From this town the people all lied 
and left their habitations. Great was my disaj)- 
pointment ! I spent the night in a melancholy 
manner : having neither fire nor bed to comfort my 
shivering and impaired body. 

About day, I set out from the dreary house, 
which had sheltered me in the night. By travel- 
ling, I found I had taken cold, and my wound was 
very painful. Desponding, I thought it best to go 
back about seven miles to some inhabitants, rather 
than to proceed homeward. Just before night I 
arrived at the j)lace of the inhabitants, seven miles 
back, who received me kindly, and took special care 
of my wound. 

Just before sunset of the tliird day, after my 
departure, I came to my old friend Priest's agaiu, 
who appeared very glad to see me. Now it was 
not any friendship in my tory visitors, who advised 
me to escajDC, but for fear I should betray them, 
their rej)orts afterwards proving a lie. 

At my old friend's, I remained six weeks: in the 
mean time my wound was almost healed. I was 
hospitably entertained by him. 



42 NARRATIVE. 

Having heard that one Mr. Atwell, belonging to 
New-Marll:)orongh,(i5) was in the neighborhood with 
a team to move a family, I agreed with him for a 
liorse to ride. After a jonrney of a few days, I 
safely arrived at New-Ipswich, (ir,) and once more 
participated the pleasure of seeing and enjoying 
my friends, and no enemy to make me afraid. 

Not long afterwards, an officer from the army 
hearing of my return ordered me to be arrested and 
retnrned to the main body of the American army, 
although my wound was scarcely liealed. In a few 
weeks, I joined my corps, then stationed in Pennsyl- 
vania; having yet two years to serve my country in 
the tented field. 

We afterwards w^ent on an expedition against the 
Indians, to the Genesee Country, a long and 
tedious march, commanded by Gen. Sullivan, (n) 
where we drove the savages before us, burnt their 
huts, destroyed their corn.(iK) Tiie tirst Indian set- 
tlement we came to was called Tiauger, (lo) where 
they lay in ambush, in a thick wood, on a hill, 
where they fired on our men and killed seven ; after 
that we were ordered to march in the following 
order : the army was divided into four columns, 



NARRATIVE. 43 

and the head of each cohimn had a horn or trum- 
pet, and each of these divisions marched as far 
apart as they could hear each other sound : we 
marched in this hne all the way afterward, if we 
had not they undoubtedly would have waylaid and 
killed us all. There were two men that left their 
place and went out from the main body and were 
taken by the Indians, and tortured to death in the 
most cruel manner. (20) 

Our provision was like to fail : we had to go on 
half allowance a long time, or we should have 
starved. Finding few enemies to contend with in 
that quarter, as they were not disposed to meet us 
in the open field, we received the gladly obeyed 
orders to return to Kew-England, where we remained 
the ensuing autumn. Nothing more of importance, 
to me or the reader, occurred, until the three long 
years rolled away, except when in Pennsylvania, I 
had the honor of being acquainted with Gen. Wash- 
ington (21) and Gen. Lafayette,(22) and then I received 
my discharge.* 

And now, kind reader, wishing that you may 

* He received his discharge March 20, 1780. — Ed. 



u 



NAEKATIVE. 



forever remain ignorant of the real sufferings of the 
veteran soldier, from hunger and cold, from sick- 
ness and captivity, I bid you a cordial adieu. 

EBENEZER FLETCHER. („) 
New- Ipswich, Jan., 1813. 




NOTES. 



(i) Capt. James Carr was a resident of Somersworth, 
Strafford Co., N. H. He was Captain of the third company 
in the second of three battalions raised in New Hampshire in 
1776. He eventually attained the rank of Major, and died on 
the eleventh day of March, 1829. 

(j) The following were the officers of the company : 

James Carr of Somersworth. Captain. 

Samuel Cherry '' luOniioxid&Yvy .. First- Lieutenant. 

Peletiah Whittemore. . " l^'E.^\'(iS'w\ch. .Second -Lieutenant. 
George Frost " Greenland Ensign. 



(s) Col. Nathan Hale was horn in Hanipstead, Rocking- 
liam Co., N. H., on the 23d day of September, 1743. His 
mother's maiden name was Elizabeth Wheeler. His father, 
Moses Hale, was born in Rowley, Mass., in 1703, and died in 
Rindge, K H., on the 19th day of June, 1762. 



46 NOTES. 

Col. Hale was by occupation a merchant. He came to 
Rindge in company with his brothers, Moses and Enoch, 
shortly after the first settlement of the place. On the 28th day 
of January, 1766, he was married to Abigail Grout, who was 
born in Lunenburgh, Mass., March 23d, 1745. This lady was 
the daughter of John Grout, who was born in Sudbury, Mass., 
October 14, 1704. Mr. Grout was originally a farmer, but, 
during the latter years of his life, followed the profession of 
the law. He resided in Lunenburgh a while ; thence moved 
to Rindge, and subsequently to Jaftrey, N. H., where he died. 

Col. Hale commanded the second of three battalions which 
were raised in New Hampshire in 1776, to serve for the period 
of three years. He was engaged in the battle of Hubbardton, 
and was taken prisoner there by the British. Immediately 
after the battle, reports, censuring his conduct in that engage- 
ment, were circulated, but whether they were well founded, 
or originated, as many have supposed, in the envy of some of 
his inferior officers, it is difficult now to decide. It is known 
that he and his men were at the time of the engagement in a 
feeble state of health, and were consequently unfit for military 
service. The historians of the day, moreover, attach no 
blame to his conduct; and his character, in other respects, 
appears to have been irreproachable. Col. Hale, it is said, on 
hearing of the reports, wrote to General Washington, request-- 
ing that he might be exchanged, and thus have the oppor- 
tunity of vindicating his character by a court-martial, but 
before this could be effected, he died, while a prisoner on 



NOTES. 47 

Long Island, in the month of September, IVSO, he being tlien 
thirty-seven years of age. He left, surviving him, his widow, 
four sons and two daugliters, all of whom are now deceased. 

Mrs. Hale was a woman of great resolution, and managed 
her affairs with remarkable success. She lived in Rindge 
for many years, and died in Chelsea, Vt., on the 14th day of 
September, 1838, in the ninety-fourth year of her age. 

The following are the names of Col. Hale's children, and the 
times of their birtli and death : 

1. Charlotte (Mrs. Lowe).. Born Dec. 30, 1766. .Died May 5, 1841. 

2. Thomas " Sept. 6, 1769. . " Dec. 1, 1797. 

S.Nathan " July 1,1771.. " Jan. 9,1849. 

4. A SON. " July 1773.. " Same day. 

5. Elipualet " May 16, 1775.. " Sept. 26, 1852. 

6. Polly " April 26, 1778. . " Sept. 26,1795. 

7. Harry " Feb. 10, 1780. . '• June 2, 1861. 

(4) The following were the officers of the Second Battalion : 

Nathan Hale of Rindge Colonel. 

WiNBOKN Adams " Durham Lieutenant- Col. 

Benjamin Titcomb " Dover Major. 

William Elliot " Exeter Adjutant. 

Jerry Fogg " Kensington Paymaster. 

Richard Brown " Unity Quarter-Master. 

William Parker, Jr. ... " Exeter Surgeon. 

Peletiah Warren " Berwick Surgeon''s Mate. 

Augustus Hibbard " Claremont Chaplain. 

(s) Tioonderoga — a post-town of Essex County, New-York, 
on the west side of the south end of Lake Champlain, and at 



48 NOTES. 

the north end of Lake George, twelve miles south of Crown 
Point, and ninety-five miles north of Albany. In 1860 the 
population of the town was 2,270. 

Ticonderoga Fort, so famous in American history, was 
erected on an eminence on the north side of a peninsula 
of about five hundred acres, elevated upwards of one hundred 
feet above Lake Champlain, at the mouth of Lake George's 
outlet. Considerable remains of the fortifications are still to 
be seen. The stone walls of the fort, which are still standing, 
are in some places thirty feet high. The fort was built by the 
French in 1756, and was called by them " Carillon^'''' a word 
signifying a jingling racket or clatter. By the Indians it was 
known by the Iroquois name " Checonderoga^'''' signifying 
" sounding waters." It had all the advantages that art or 
nature could give it, being defended on three sides by 
water surrounded by rocks, and on half of the fourth by a 
swamp, and where that fails, the French erected a breast 
work nine feet high. The British and Colonial troops, 
under General Abercrombie, were defeated here in the 
year 1758, but the place was taken the year following 
by General Amherst. Ticonderoga was the first fortress 
attacked by the Americans in the Revolutionary war. It 
was surprised by Cols. Ethan Allen and Benedict Arnold, 
on the 10th day of May, 1775 ; was re-taken by Gene- 
ral Burgoyne on the 6th day of July, 1777; and was 
evacuated after his surrender, the garrison returning to 
St. Johns. 



NOTES. 49 

Mount Defiance lies about a mile south of the fort, and 
Mount Independence is about half a mile distant, on the 
opposite side of the lake, in Addison County, Vermont. 

(e) Major-Ge;n^eeal Arthur St. Clair was born in Edin- 
burgh, Scotland, in the year 1734. He came to America with 
Admiral Boscawen in 1755. In 1759 and 1760 he served in 
Canada as a Lieutenant, under Gen. Wolfe, and after the 
peace of 1763, was appointed to the command of Fort 
Ligonier, in Pennsylvania. Here he settled, and becoming a 
citizen of Pennsylvania, was appointed to several offices of a 
civil nature. When the Revolution commenced, he embraced 
the cause of the Americans, and in January, 1776, was 
appointed to command a battalion of Pennsylvania militia. 
He was engaged in the expedition to Canada, and was the 
second in command in the proposed attack on the British post 
at Trois Rivieres. He was soon after ordered to join the 
army in New Jersey, and was engaged in the battles of Tren- 
ton and Princeton. On the ninth day of August, 1776, he 
was appointed a Brigadier-General, and in the month of 
February following, was made a Major-General. He was the 
commanding officer at Ticonderoga when that post was 
invested by the British, and having a garrison of but about 
2,000 men, badly equipped, and very short of ammunition and 
stores, he was compelled to evacuate it, which he did on the 
6th day of July, 1777. Charges of cowardice, treachery and 
incapacity were brought against him for this step, but a court 



50 NOTES. 

of inquiry honorably acquitted him. In 1780 he was ordered 
to Khode Island, but circumstances prevented him from going 
thither. When the allied armies marched towards Virginia 
in 1781, to attack Cornwallis, Gen. St. Clair was directed to 
remain at Philadelphia with the recruits of the Pennsylvania 
line for the protection of Congress. He was, however, soon 
allowed to join the army, and reached Yorktown during the 
siege. From Yorktown he was sent with a considerable 
force to join Gen. Greene, which he did near Savannah, 
Georgia, and at the conclusion of the war, he returned to his 
former residence in Pennsylvania. In 1783 he was a member 
of the Council of Censors of Pennsylvania, and the same year 
was elected President of the Cincinnati Society of that State. 
In 1786 he was elected a delegate to Congress, and in Feb- 
ruary, 1787, was chosen President of that body. In 1788 he 
was appointed Governor of the territory of the United States 
north-west of the Ohio, which office he retained until Novem- 
ber, 1802, when he was removed by Mr. .Jefferson in con- 
sequence of the too free expression of his political opinions. 
In 1791 he commanded an ai'my employed against the Miami 
Indians, and was defeated on the 4th of November, with the 
loss of between six hundred to seven hundred men. On this 
occasion a portion of the citizens were loud in their censures 
of his conduct ; but a committee of the House of Representa- 
tives, appointed to examine into the cause of the failure 
of the expedition, upon hearing his defense, honorably excul- 
pated him from blame. In the following year he resigned his 



NOTES. 51 

commission as Major-General, and in his old age, being 
reduced to poverty, and embarrassed by debts, he applied to 
Congress for relief, but his claims on the sympathy of his 
country were listened to with inditference, and admitted with 
reluctance. In the year 1817, after a great suspense, he 
obtained a pension of sixty dollars a month, which he did not, 
however, live long to enjoy. He died at Laurel Hill, near 
Phil., on the 31st day of August, 1818, at the age of eighty- 
four years. His remains were interred in the Presbyterian 
church-yard in Greensburg, "Westmoreland Co., Pa., and in 1832 
the Masonic fraternity placed a neat monument over his grave. 

(t) " Although every possible exertion had been made by Gen. 
St. Clair and his men, the state of the American works and 
of the garrison was not such as to insure a long and vigorous 
defence. The old French fort had been strengthened by 
some additional works, several block-houses had been erected, 
and some new batteries had been constructed on the side 
towards Lake George. The Americans had also fortified a 
high circular hill on the east side of the lake opposite to 
Ticonderoga, to which they had given the name of Mount 
Independence. These two posts were connected by a floating- 
bridge twelve feet wide and one thousand feet long, which 
was supported by twenty-two sunken piers of large timber. 
This bridge was to have been defended by a boom strongly 
fastened together by bolts and chains ; but this boom was not 
completed when Gen. Burgoyne advanced against the works. 



52 NOTES. 

" Notwithstaading the apparent, strength of the posts 
occupied by the Americans, their works were all elfectually 
overlooked and commanded by a neighboring eminence 
called Sugar Loaf Hill, or Mount Defiance. This circum- 
stance was well known to the American officers, and they 
had a consultation for the express purpose of considering the 
propriety of fortifying this mountain ; but it was declined, 
because they believed the British would not think it prac- 
ticable to plant cannon upon it, and because their works 
were already so extensive, that they could not be properly 
manned, the whole garrison consisting of only 2,546 conti- 
nental troops, and 900 militia; the latter very badly armed 
and equipped. 

" Gen. St. Clair was sensible that he could not sustain a 
regular siege ; still he hoped that the confidence of Burgoyne 
would induce him to attempt to carry the American works 
by assault, against which he was resolved to defend himself 
to the last extremity. But to the surprise and consternation 
of the Americans, on the 5th of July, the enemy appeared 
upon Mount Defiance, and immediately commenced the con- 
struction of a battery. This battery, when completed, would 
eflTectually command all the American works on both sides of 
the lake, and the line of communication between them ; and, 
as there was no prospect of being able to dislodge the enemy 
from this post, a council of war was called, by which it was 
unanimously agreed that a retreat should be attempted tluit 
very night, as the only means of saving the army. 



NOTES. 53 

" Accordingly, about two o'clock in the morning of the 6th 
of July, Gen. St. Clair, with the garrison, left Ticonderoga, 
and at about three o'clock the troops on Mount Independence 
were put in motion. The baggage, provisions and stores 
were, as far as practicable, embarked on board 200 batteaux, 
and despatched, under convoy of five armed gallies, to 
Skenesborough, while the main body of the army proceeded 
by land on the route through Hubbardton and Castleton. . 
These affairs were conducted with secrecy and silence, and 
unobserved by the enemy, till a French officer, imprudently 
and contrary to orders, set fire to his house. The flames 
immediately illuminated the whole of Mount Independence, 
and revealed to the enemy at once the movements and 
designs of the Americans. It at the same time impressed the 
Americans with such an idea of discovery and danger, as to 
throw them into the utmost disorder and confusion. 

" About four o'clock, the rear-guard of the Americans left 
Mount Independence, and were brought ofi" by Col. Francis in 
good order; and the regiments which had preceded him, 
were soon recovered from their confusion. When the troops 
arrived at Hubbardton, they were halted for nearly two 
hours. Here the rear-guard was put under the command of 
Col. Seth "Warner, with orders to follow the army, as soon as 
those, who had been left behind, came up, and to halt about a 
mile and a half in the rear of the main body. St. Clair then 
proceeded to Castleton, about six miles further, leaving 
Warner, with the rear-guard and stragglers, at Hubbardton." 



54 NOTES. 

" The retreat from Ticonderoga was very disastrous to the 
Americans. Their cannon, amounting to 128 pieces, — their 
shipping and batteaux, and their provisions, stores and maga- 
zines, fell into the hands of the enemy. By this event, Bur- 
goyne obtained no less than 1,748 barrels of flour, and more 
than TO tons of salt provisions ; and, in addition to these, a 
large drove of cattle, which had arrived in the American 
camp a few days previous to their retreat, fell into his 

hands." 

Thompson' s Vermont, Part 2, pp. 41-43. 
See also 

WUliams' Hist. Vermont, Vol. 2. pp. 101-109. 

(s) " The retreat of the Americans from Ticonderoga was 
no sooner perceived by the British than an eager pursuit was 
begun by General Fraser with the light troops, who was soon 
followed by General Kiedesel with the greater part of the 
Brunswick regiments. Fraser continued the pursuit during 
the day, and having learned that the rear of the American 
army was not far off, ordered his men to lie that night upon 
their arms. Early on the morning of the 7th he renewed the 
pursuit, and about 7 o'clock, commenced an attack upon the 
Americans under "Warner. Warner's force consisted of his 
own regiment, and the regiments of Cols. Francis and Hale. 
Hale, fearful of the result, retired with his regiment, leaving 
Warner and Francis, with only seven or eight hundred men, 
to dispute the progress of the enemy. 

" The conflict was fierce and bloody. Francis fell at the 
head of his regiment, fighting with great resolution and 



NOTES. 55 

bravery. Warner, well supported by his officers and men, 
charged the enemy with such impetuosity that they were 
thrown into disorder, and at first gave way. They, however, 
soon recovered, formed anew, and advanced upon the Ameri- 
cans, who, in their turn, fell back. At this critical moment, a 
re-enforcement under Gen. Eiedesel arrived, which was 
immediately led into action, and the fortune of the day was 
soon decided. The Americans, overpowered by numbers, 
and exhausted by fatigue, fled from the field in every 
direction. 

" The loss of the Americans in this encounter was very 
considerable. Hale was overtaken by a party of the British, 
and surrendered himself, and a number of his men, prisoners 
of war. The whole American loss in killed, wounded and 
prisoners, was 324, of whom about 30 were killed. The loss 
of the enemy in killed and wounded, was 183. 

" Gen. St. Clair, with the main body of the American 
army, was at Castleton, only six miles distant, during this 
engagement, but sent no assistance to Warner. After the 
battle, Warner, with his usual perseverance and intrepidity, 
collected his scattered troops and conducted them safely to 
Fort Edward, to which place St. Clair had retired with the 
army. While Gens. Fraser and Riedesel were pursuing the 
Americans by land, General Burgoyne himself conducted the 
pursuit by water. The boom and bridge between Ticon- 
deroga and Mount Independence not being completed, were 
soon cut through, and by nine o'clock in the morning of the 



56 NOTES. 

6th the Britisli frigates and guu-boats had passed the works. 
Several reghueuts were immediately embarked on board the 
boats, and the chase commenced. By three in the afternoon 
the foremost boats overtook and attacked the American gallies 
near Skenesborough, (now Whitehall,) and upon the approach 
of the frigates, the Americans abandoned their gallies, blew 
up three of them, and escaped to the shore. The other two 
fell into the hands of the British. 

" As the American force was not sufficient to make an 
effectual stand at Skenesborough, they set fire to the works, 
mills and batteaux, and retreated up Wood Creek to Fort 
Ann. Being pursued by the ninth British regiment under 
Colonel Hill, the Americans turned upon him and gave him 
battle with siich a spirit as to cause him to retire to the top 
of a hill, where he would have been soon overpowered, had 
not a re-enforcement come at that critical moment to his 
assistance. The Americans, upon this, relinquished the 
attack, and having set fire to Fort Ann, retreated to Fort 
Edward and joined the main army under Schuyler." 

" After St. Clair had joined Gen. Schuyler at Fort Edward, 
and all the scattered troops had come in, the whole American 
force at that place did not exceed 4,400 men. Sensible that, 
with this force, it would be impossible to make an effectual 
stand, it became the chief object of the American generals to 
impede as much as possible the progress of the enemy by cutting 
down trees, blocking up the roads, and destroying the bridges. 



NOTES. 57 

" The works at Fort Edward being in no condition to 
afford protection to the American army, Gen. Schuyler 
abandoned them on the 22d of July, and retired with his 
whole force to Moses Creek, a position on the Hudson, about 
four miles below Fort Edward. At this place the hills 
approach very near the river on both sides, and this was 
selected as a favorable position to make a stand and dispute 
the progress of the enemy. But the army was found to be 
so much reduced by defeat and desertion, and the dissatisfac- 
tion to the American cause was found to be so general in thig 
section of the country, that it was judged best to retire to 
Saratoga, and subsequently to Stillwater, at which place the 
array arrived on the 1st day of August." 

Thompson's Vermont, Part 2, pp. 42, 43. 
See also 

Williams' Hist. Vermont, Vol. 2, pp. 105-107. 
Gordon's American War, Vol. 2, pp. 483, 484. 
Allen's American Rev., Vol. 2, pp. 31-33. 
Thacher's Journal, Ed. o/1827, pp. 83-86. 
Stone's Hist, of Beverly, pp. 73-79. 
Trial of Gen. St. Clair. 

The following account we take from one of the newspapers of the day : 
"■July 17. — By an express from the northward we learn 
that the American forces, under the command of General 
St. Clair, abandoned Fort Ticonderoga and the adjoining lines, 
on the morning of the 6th instant, and are now encamped in 
the vicinity of Moses Creek. A letter from an officer at that 
place, written this day, gives the following account of the 
retreat and its consequences : — The retreat from Ticonderoga 



58 NOTES. 

will be a matter of speculation in the country, and the 
accounts different and confused, a true state of facts will 
therefore be very satisfactory without doubt. 

" "We were deceived with respect to the strength of the 
enemy, and our own reinforcements. The enemy have prac- 
tised a piece of finesse which has too well answered their pur- 
pose ; they have so conducted that all hands in the United 
States believed they had drawn their force from Canada to 
the southward, and designed only to garrison their posts in the 
northern world; the consequence of this belief has been the 
ordering eight regiments, destined for Ticonderoga and its 
environs, to Peekskill, and little attention has been paid to 
this department. The enemy's condition in Canada has been 
represented as miserable, confused, scattered and sickly ; this 
has been the general opinion in camp and country, and our 
situation has been thought perfectly safe. 

" Our force consisted of about four thousand, including the 
corps of artillery, and artificers who were not armed, a con- 
siderable part of which were militia ; we could bring about 
three thousand fit for duty into the field. General Burgoyne 
came against us with about eight thousand healthy, spirited 
troops, with a lake force consisting of three fifty-gun ships, 
a thunder mounting eighteen brass twenty-four pounders, two 
thirteen-inch mortars, a number of howitz, several sloops, 
gun-boats, &c., &c. 

" Their strength being so very superior to ours, obliged us 
to tamely sit still and see them erect batteries all around us. 



NOTES. 59 

without hazarding a sally. Two hatteries were erected in 
front of our lines, on higher ground than ours ; within half a 
mile on our left they had taken post on a very high hill over- 
looking all our works ; our right would have been commanded 
by their shipping and the batteries they had erected on the 
other side of the lake. Our lines at Ticonderoga would have 
been of no service, and we must have inevitably abandoned 
them in a few days after their batteries opened, which would 
have been the next morning ; we then should have been 
necessitated to retire to Fort Independence, the consequence 
of which, I conceive, would have been much worse than the 
mode.adopted ; for the moment we had left Ticonderoga fort, 
they could send their shipping by us, and prevent our commu- 
nication with Skenesborough ; then the only avenue to and 
from Fort Independence would have been by a narrow neck 
of land leading from the mount to the Grants. To this neck 
they had almost cut a road; a day more would have com- 
pleted it. A few troops stationed at Ticonderoga, would, 
have prevented our communication with Lake George, as our 
own works would have been against us. Their shipping 
would have destroyed our connection with Skenesborough, 
and their main body might have been placed on this neck of 
land, which, by a few works, might have prevented all 
supplies and reinforcements ; we might have stayed at the 
mount as long as our provisions would have supported us ; we 
had flour for thirty days, and meat sufficient only for a week. 
Under these circumstances General St. Clair, on the sixth 



60 NOTES. 

instant, called a council of war, and an evacuation was unani- 
mously agreed upon as the only means of saving the army 
from captivity. 

" It was necessary also that our retreat should be pre- 
cipitate, as the communication was almost cut off, and they 
would soon be apprised of our designs. It was therefore 
determined to send the baggage and sick in boats to Skenes- 
borough, and for the army to march by land from the mount 
to that place, being forty miles. At the dawn of day we left 
Fort Independence, and I cannot say the march was conducted 
with the greatest regularity ; the front, which was the main 
body, marched thirty miles to a place called Castleton, about 
twelve miles from Skenesborough ; the militia halted three 
miles in the rear of the front, and the rear guard, commanded 
by Colonel Francis, being joined by Colonels Warner and 
Hale, halted at Hubbardton, about a mile and a half in the 
rear of the militia. As the march was severe, the feeble of 
the army had fallen in the rear, and tarried at Hubbardton 
with the rear-guard. This body in rear might consist of 
near a thousand men. Before I proceed further, it may be 
necessary to give you the enemy's dispositions after they 
were advised of our retreat : A large body, at least two 
thousand, were detached to pursue our main body and harass 
our rear; all the gun-boats and some of their shipping were 
sent after our baggage, came up with it at Skenesborough 
and took it. The ninth regiment, commanded by Lieutenant- 
Colonel Hills, was ordered to run down South Bay, and land 



NOTES. 61 

and march on a by-road to Fort Ann, and take that before our 
troops could reach it ; the remainder of the army went on to 
Skenesborough, except a garrison at Ticonderoga. 

" The body of the enemy sent to harass our rear, came up 
with it the next morning at Hubbardton, which was then 
commanded by Colonel Warner; by the exertions of the 
officers, our little army formed and gave them battle, which 
continued about twenty-five minutes very severe, when our 
party were overpowered with numbers and gave way. The 
loss on both sides was considerable ; as our people took to the 
woods and are daily coming in, it is impossible to ascertain 
our loss. Colonel Francis, a worthy, brave officer, after sig- 
nalizing himself, was shot through, and expired instantly; 
Colonel Hale is missing. It is natural to ask, why was not 
Colonel Warner reinforced ? Let me tell you ; orders were 

sent to Colonel , who commanded the militia, to go to the 

assistance of tiie rear-guard, but before they arrived, the 
action was over and our people dispersed. Our main body 
being now twelve miles from Skenesborough, and hearing 
that a large body of the enemy were arrived tLere, and know- 
ing that a large body were in our rear, the general imagined 
if we pursued our route, that we must engage both in front 
and rear under great disadvantage ; and to pursue his plan in 
first retreating, which was to save the army, he thought pru- 
dent to file off to the left, and before we reached Hudson 
Eivei-, we marched one hundred and fifty miles; in this march 
we picked up about thirty prisoners, part British, part Wal- 



62 NOTES. 

deckers, and part Canadians. The party of our men who 
were at Skenesborongh, retreated to Fort Ann; they were 
twice attacked by the ninth regiment, and both times 
repulsed them. They took a Captain Montgomery and a 
doctor, and would probably have taken the whole regiment 
had their ammunition held out. This is a candid statement 
of facts, and for this conduct we are told our country calls us 
either knaves or cowards ; I conceive they ought to be grate- 
ful to our general, for had we stayed, we very certainly 
should have been taken, and then no troops could have stood 
between the enemy and the country. Our aftairs now are not 
desperate in this quarter, as they would certainly have been ; 
we have destroyed Fort George and its appendages, and shall 
soon be able, I hope, to make head against our enemies, as we 
are gathering strength and re-collecting ourselves." 

Pennsylvania Evening Post, August 9th, 1777. 

(g) Otter Creek, called by the French la Biviere aux 
Loutres, the River of Otters, is the longest stream of water in 
Vermont. It rises in Bennington Co., in the W. N. W. part 
of the State, and flowing in a N". N. W. course through Rut- 
land Co., falls into Lake Ohamplain in Addison Co. In its 
course it receives about fifteen small tributary streams. Otter 
Creek, above Middlebury, is a very still stream, and its waters 
deep, aflfording very few mill privileges. From Middlebury to 
Pittsford, a distance of twenty-five miles, it is navigable for 
boats. At Middlebury, Weybridge, and Vergennes, there are 



NOTES. 63 

falls in the creek which afford excellent sites for mills, and on 
which are some of the finest manufacturing establishments in 
the State. From Vergennes to the mouth, a distance of eight 
miles, the creek is navigable for the largest vessels on the 
lake. The whole length of the creek is about ninety miles, 
and it waters about nine hundred square miles. 

(lo) The Hessiaxs were soldiers hired by Great Britain of 
some of the petty rulers of Germany, but from the circumstance 
of the greater number being derived from the principality of 
Hessen Cassel, they obtained the technical name by which 
they are now known, and which in course of time has become 
a term for mercenary troops generally. They were bought 
for a stipulated sum paid on account of each man on enlist- 
ment in the British army, while additional amounts became 
payable in the event of certain contingencies, such as wounds 
and death. The following table exhibits the quota obtained 
from the respective rulers, as well as the amount received 
by each : 

Prince. Number of men furnished. 

Bkunswick 5.723 

Hessen Cassel 16,992 

Hessen Hanau 2,422 

Anspach 1,644 

Waldeck 1,225 

Anhalt 1,160 



Number lost. 


Amounts received. 


3,015 


£780,000 


6,500 


2,600,000 


981 


335,150 


461 


305,400 


720 


122,670 


176 


535,500 



Total 29,166 11,853 4,678,620 

Hanover received 448,000 



Total amount received £ 5,126,620 



64 NOTES. 

Many of the troops were temporary sojourners in the prin- 
cipalities, and were secured by kidnapping, a mode which 
was practiced to a great extent. As this device relieved the 
citizens of Oassel from the evils of compulsory military service, 
it met with little or no opposition from them, and every 
traveler, therefore, had to depend chiefly on himself for 
safety. The necessary consequence of such a mode of recruit- 
ing was a great number of desertions, and to such an extent 
did these prevail, tliat from the regiment of Anhalt alone, 
one hundred and forty men deserted in one day, and on the 
next, their example was followed by an officer and fifty men. 
The Hessians arrived in America in 1776, and were first 
employed against the Americans in the battle of Long Island. 
They were subsequently engaged at Trenton, Princeton, 
Saratoga, and elsewhere. They were generally fine, hearty - 
looking men ; wore large knapsacks on their backs, and 
spatter-dashes on their legs. A member of one of these 
regiments, says Dunlap, {Rist. Amer. Theatre^ Am. Ed.., p. 45,) 
" with his towering brass-fronted caj), mustacios coloured 
with the same material that coloured his shoes, his hair 
plastered with tallow and flour, and tightly drawn into a 
long appendage reaching from the back of the head to his 
waist, his blue uniform almost covered by the broad belts 
sustaining his cartouch-box, his brass-hilted sword, and his 
bayonet ; a yellow waistcoat with flaps, and yellow breeches 
were met at the knee by black gaiters, and thus heavily 
equipped, he stood an automaton, and I'eceived the command 



NOTES. 65 

or cane of the officer who inspected him." The cavah-y were 
mounted on gay ponies, much decorated with leather trap- 
pings. .The accoutrements of themselves and their horses 
were heavy in the extreme. At tlie termination of the war, 
many of the Hessians settled down in America, and some of 
them became good and enterprising farmers and citizens. 

(n) HuBBARDTON, a township in Rutland Co., Vermont, 
fifty miles N. of Bennington, and forty-six miles S. S. W. of 
Montpelier. It derived its name from Thomas Hubbard, who 
was a large proprietor. The settlement was commenced in 
the spring of 1Y74 by Uriah Hickok and William Trowbridge, 
who came with their families from Norfolk, Conn. Elizabeth, 
daughter of Mrs. Hickok, was born August 1st, 1774, and died 
in September, 177G. This was the first birth and the first 
death in the town. The first barn was built in 1785, and the 
first house in 1787. The first settlers of the town suffered 
very severely from the Indians and tories. There were but 
nine families in the town when the American army, under 
Gen. St. Clair, evacuated Ticonderoga, July 6, 1777. In 1810 
the population was 642, and in 1860 it numbered 606. 

(12) White Hall, formerly called Skenesborough, a post- 
village in Washington Co., N". Y., was organized in 1788. It 
is beautifully situated in White Hall township, at the head of 
the southern extremity of Lake Champlain, and on the Sara- 
toga and Washington Railroad, seventy-seven miles N. by 



66 NOTES. 

E. of Alban}'. The Ohamplain canal terminates here, con- 
necting the village with Troy. " The Indian name of the 
town was ^ Kah-cho-qvah-na,'' the place whei'e dip-fish." It 
was formerly called Skenesborough from Maj. Philip Skene, 
a royalist who resided here previous to the Revolution. The 
pass at this place was seized by a detacliment of volunteers 
from Connecticut in May, 1775. Major Skene and his family, 
with a number of soldiei's, and several small pieces of cannon, 
were taken. When Ticoaderoga was abandoned on the 
approach of Gen. Burgoyne, the public stores were embarked 
on board of two hundred batteaux, and sent up the lake to 
Skenesborough, under a convoy of five galleys. They were 
pursued by a British brigade of gun-boats, and overtaken at 
Skenesborough. Two of the galleys were taken, and the 
other three blown up. The Americans being unable to make 
an eflicient stand, set fire to the works, fort, mills, batteaux, 
and escaped as they could to Fort Ann. Skenesborough was 
occupied by Burgoyne as his head-quarters for a considerable 
time, while his troops were clearing a road to Fort Edward. 
On the heights, overlooking the harbor, are the remains of a 
battery and block house. The town carries on an extensive 
trade with Canada. In 1860 the population of the township 
was 4,862; of the village, 4,000. 

(is) John Fletcher, the father of our author, was born in 
Concord, Mass., and came to New Ipswich in 1758. He was 
a cooper by trade. He was killed in New Ipswich in 1763, 



NOTES. 67 

by the foiling of a tree. The family were led to the spot 
through the strange conduct of their cat. The maiden name 
of John Fletcher's wife was Elizabeth Foster. She was the 
daughter of Abijah Foster, a farmer by occupation, and one 
of the first settlers of New Ipswich. This lady was the first 
female born in the place. She was born in the year 1741, 
was married to John Fletcher in 1759, and died in the 
year 1800. 

(14) Ludlow, a post village and township in Windsor Co., 
Vt., on a tributary of the Connecticut river, and on the Eut- 
land and Burlington Railroad, about sixty-one mil6s S. of 
Montpelier. In 1784-5, Josiah and Jesse Fletcher, Simeon 
Reed, and James Whitney, all from Massachusetts, moved to 
within the limits of the town, and began their clearings upon 
the alluvial flats bordering upon Black River. Ludlow has 
churches of three denominations, and considerable manufac- 
tories of cassimeres, machinery and combs. The population 
in 1860 was 1,568. 

(15) New MAEi.BOROUGn, a post township in Berkshire Co., 
Mass., about 130 miles W. by S. of Boston. The first im- 
provements in the town were made in 1739 by Benjamin 
Wheeler, who came from Marlborough. During the severe 
winter of 1739-40, he remained the only white inhabitant 
in the town. The Indians, though in most respects friendly, 
forbade him the use of his gun, lest he should kill the 



68 NOTES. 

deer, and thus withheld from him part of the means of 
his support. His nearest white neighbors were in Sheffield, 
ten miles distant. Some of these people came on snow- 
shoes to see him. In the town is a rock, judged to weigh 
thirty or forty tons, so equally balanced on another rock, 
that a man can move it with his finger. The population 
of the township in 1860 was 1,782. 

(le) Kew-Ipswich, a post-town in Hillsborough Co., N. H., 
on the west side of Souhegan river, upon the southern line of 
the State. It is distant fifty miles S. W. from Concord, and 
eighteen miles S. W. from Amherst. It was settled before 
1749, by Reuben Kidder and others, and was incorporated 
Sept. 9th, 1762. The principal village is in the centre of the 
town, in a pleasant and fertile valley. Manj of the dwelling- 
houses are of brick, and are elegant in appearance. The 
village contains a bank, a number of factories, and several 
cotton mills, the first of which was put in operation in 1803. 
The New-Ipswich Academy was incorporated June 18, 1789, 
has a fund of £1,000, and generally about forty or fifty stu- 
dents. New-Ipswich has produced many men, who have 
become eminent as patriots, merchants, and men of science. 
There were sixty-five men from this town in the battle of 
Bunker Hill. The population of the town in 1860 was 1,701. 

• (n) Majoe-Gen. John Sullivan was of Irish descent, and 
was born in Berwick, in the State of Maine, on the I7th day 



NOTES. 69 

of February, 1740. In his youth he worked upon a farm, but 
after arriving at maturity he studied law and established him- 
self in practice in Durham, New Hampshire. His energy and 
industry soon rendered him a prominent man, and he was 
chosen a delegate to the first Congress. After his retirement 
from that body, he, with John Langdon, the Speaker of the 
Provincial Congress of New Hampshire, commanded a small 
force that seized Fort William and Mary, at Portsmouth, and 
carried off the cannon and powder. The next year he was 
again chosen a delegate to Congress, but being appointed by 
that body one of the eight brigadier-generals, in the new 
army, he soon proceeded to head-quarters at Cambridge. In 
the following year he was made a Major-General, and super- 
seded Arnold in the command of the American army in 
Canada, but was soon driven out of that province. When 
Gen. Greene became ill on Long Island, Sullivan took com- 
mand of his division, and in the battle of Brooklyn he was 
taken prisoner by the enemy. He was subsequently ex- 
changed, and took command of Gen. Lee's division in New 
Jersey after the capture of that officer. In the autumn of 
1777 he was engaged in the battles of Brandywine and Ger- 
mantown, and in the winter following took command of the 
troops on Rhode Island. In August, 1778, he besieged New- 
port, then in the hands of the British, with the fullest confi- 
dence of success, but being abandoned by the French fleet 
under D'Estaing, who sailed to Boston, he was obliged to 
raise the siege. On the 29th an action took place with the 



70 NOTES. 

pursuing enemy, who were repulsed with loss. On the fol- 
lowing day, with much military skill, he passed over to the 
continent without the loss of baggage or life, and without the 
slightest suspicion on the part of the British of his move- 
ments. In the year 1779 he commanded an expedition 
against the Six Nations, and soon after his return, he 
resigned his commission. He was afterwards a member of 
Congress, and in 1786 became President of Xew Hampshire, 
which office he held for three years. While in this position 
he rendered important service in quelling the spirit of insur- 
rection which exhibited itself at the time of the troubles in 
Massachusetts. In 1789 he was appointed District Judge of 
New Hampshire, a situation which he held at the time of his 
death. Gen. Sullivan was a man of short stature, but well 
formed and active. His complexion was dark, his nose 
prominent, his eyes black and piercing, and his face altogether 
agreeable. He was fond of display, but his deportment was 
dignified, commanding respect. He died in Durham, N. H., 
on the 23d day of January, 1795, in the 55th year of his age. 

(is) The atrocities committed by the hostile Indians of the Six 
Nations, at Wyoming, Pa., and at several settlements in New York, 
determined Congress, in 1779, to send an army into the country 
inhabited by the savages, to retort upon them their own system of 
warfare. The force employed consisted of about five thousand men, 
and the command of the same was given to Gen. John Sullivan. The 
following is a particular account of the expedition : 

" They were to make the attack by three different routes, 
by the way of the Susquehanna, the Mohawk and the Ohio 



NOTES. Yl 

rivers, while Washington, by a feint of entering Canada, 
should induce the British Governor-General to keep his forces 
at home. Tiiis plan was so far changed in its execution as to 
divide the whole force into two parts only ; the main body 
under Sullivan and the other under James Clinton, the 
Governor's brother. Sullivan reached Wyoming, on the 
Susquehanna, on the 21st July, having delayed his march, by 
waiting the result of extravagant demands which he continued 
to make for men, provisions, and equipments, and which 
Congress were not disposed to grant. The number of his 
troops, by the return of the 22d of July, amounted to no more 
than 2,312, rank and file, for the service of which, the Quarter- 
Master-General had supplied him with 1,400 horses. This 
force was more than three times greater than any probable 
number which the hostile Indians could bring against him, as 
the whole number of their warriors did not exceed 550, and to 
these were joined about 250 tories, the whole headed by John- 
son, Butler and Brandt : yet Sullivan still demanded, and 
waited for more men. On the 21st of August, he was joined 
by General Clinton with 1,600 men, who had passed by the 
way of the Mohawk, without meeting opposition. It seemed 
to be the infatuated determination of General Sullivan to 
do everything in this expedition, which could blast the 
laurels he had hitherto won. He lived, during the march, 
in every species of extravagance, was constantly complain- 
ing to Congress that he was not half supplied, and daily 
amused himself in unwarrantable remarks to his young 



72 NOTES. 

officers respecting the imbecility of Congress and the board 
of war. 

" The hostile Indians and tories before mentioned, to the 
number of about 800, were posted at Newtown, where they 
had constructed works of considerable strength, and where 
they had been long expecting the approach of Sullivan. At 
length, on the 29th of August, the General arrived. He had 
with him six light field pieces and two howitzers, and as 
if determined that his march should be no secret, a morning 
and evening gun were regularly fired during his whole route. 
He seemed to consider the enemy as already in his power, and 
made the most absurd boast of his intentions with regard to 
them. The assault was commenced by firing his light field 
pieces against their works, while a detachment under General 
Poor were ordered to march a mile and a half around the 
mountain, in full view of the enemy, for the purpose of 
attacking them on their left flank. Thus put on their guard, 
they waited the approach of General Poor, and would pro- 
bably have given him battle ; but his firing being the signal 
of other movements by Sullivan, they suddenly abandoned 
their works, and took to flight. Nothing could have been 
more mortifying to General Sullivan than this escape of what 
he had deemed a certain prize. He remained in the fort 
until the 31st, and then marched for Catharine's Town on the 
Seneca Lake. His road lay through the most dangerous 
defiles, and a swamp of considerable extent, through which a 
deep creek flowed in so meandering a course, that it was 



NOTES. Y3 

necessary to ford it seven or eight times. He arrived at the 
entrance of this swamp late in the afternoon, and was strongly 
advised not to venture into it until the next morning ; but he 
persisted, and a miracle only prevented his obstinacy from 
bringing destruction upon liis men. Some of the detiles 
through which he had to pass, were so narrow and dangerous 
that a score or two of Indians might have successfully dis- 
puted the passage against any number of men.- The night 
was exceedingly dark, the men wearied, scattered and broken, 
and ready to die rather than move on ; but the Indian scouts 
who had been sent to watch them, having retired as soon as 
it was dark, under the full persuasion that no General in his 
senses would attemjjt such a road by night, the defiles were 
fortunately unguarded, and the General arrived with his 
wearied army about midnight at the town. Clinton had 
halted at the entrance of the swamp, and pursued his march 
the next day. 

" Sullivan continued for more than a month in the Indian 
country, laying waste and destroying everything, after the 
manner of his savage enemy, and completing the destruction 
of his fame. He arrived about the middle of October at 
Easton, in Pennsylvania, having in the course of his expedition 
killed eleven Indians and destroyed eighteen or twenty towns ! 
Of the 1,400 horses which he had taken with him, 300 only 
were brought back. His childish and absurd complaints had 
disgusted the Commander-in-Chief, as well as the board of 
war, and the ridiculous vanity displayed in his official account 



74 NOTES. 

of the expedition, reudered him the jest of the whole army. 
He was not long able to bear this downfall of his pride and 
consequence, and on the 9th of November, he solicited per- 
mission to resign, which Congress readily accorded." 

Allen's Amer. Rev., Vol. 2, pp. 276-279. 
See also 

Gordon's Amer. War, Vol. 3, pp. 307-312. 

The following extract gives some interesting particulars respecting 
the condition of the Indian settlements : 

" Many settlements in the form of towns were destroyed, 
besides detached habitations. All their fields of corn, and 
whatever was in a state of cultivation, underwent the same 
fate. Scarce anything in the form of a house was left stand- 
ing, nor was an Indian to be seen. To the surprise of the 
Americans, they found the lands about the Indian towns well 
cultivated, and their houses both large and commodious. The 
quantity of corn destroyed was immense. Orchards in which 
were several hundred fruit trees were cut down, and many of 
them appeared to have been planted for a long series of years. 
Their gardens, which were enriched with great quantities of 
useful vegetables of dilferent kinds, were laid waste. The 
Americans were so full of resentment against the Indians, for 
the many outrages they had suffered from them, and so bent 
on making the expedition decisive, that the officers and 
soldiers cheerfully agreed to remain till they had fully com- 
pleted the destruction of the settlement. The supplies 
obtained in the country, lessened the inconvenience of short 



NOTES. 75 

rations. The ears of corn were so remarkably large, that 
many of them measured twenty-two inches in length. 
Necessity suggested a novel expedient for pulverising the 
grains thereof. The sokliers perforated a few of their camp 
kettles with bayonets. The protrusions occasioned thereby 
formed a rough surface, and by rubbing the ears of corn 
thereon, a coarse meal was produced, which was easily con- 
verted into agreeable nourishment." 

Ramsay's Amer. Rev., Vol. 2, pp. 191-192. 
See also 

Campbell's Tryon Co., pp. 149-166 
Life of Van Campen, pp. 134-179. 
Goodwin's Cortland Co., pp. 51-67. 
Simms' Schoharie Co., p. 295. 
Stone's Life of Brandt. Vol.2, pp. 1-41. 

(19) Tioga Point, in Bradford County, Pennsylvania, at the 
continence of the Tioga and Susquehanna rivers, in the 
northern part of the State, is noted in the annals of Indian 
warfare as the site of an ancient Indian town, and as a place 
of rendezvous for parties or armies passing up or down the 
two great streams. The "Castle" of the celebrated Catharine 
Montour, sometimes called Queen Esther, was located here. 
The village of Athens now occupies the place of Gen. Sulli- 
van's encampment. 



(•20) On the evening of Sept. 12th, 1779, while the army of Gen. 
Sullivan was encamped near an Indian town, on what is now known as 
Henderson Flats, a party of about twenty-one men, under command 
of Lieut. Thomas Boyd, was detached from the rifle corps, and sent out 



76 NOTES. 

to reconnoitre the ground near the Genesee river, at a place now 
called Williamsbnrgh, about seven miles distant from the place of 
encampment. On their return to the main army, they were attacked 
by an overwhelming body of savages and tories, and Boyd and a man 
named Parker were taken prisoners, and subsequently put to death, 
the former in the most horrible manner, after having his nails pulled 
out, his nose and tongue cut oflF, and one of his eyes plucked out. The 
remainder of the party were all killed, with the exception of one 
Timothy Murphy, who succeeded in making his escape. Shortly after 
this occurrence, the bodies of Boyd and his slaughtered companions 
were recovered by the army, and interred at a place now known as 
Groveland. Their remains lay here until the year 1841, when they 
were removed to Rochester and deposited in the cemetery at Mount 
Hope, with appropriate civil and military honors, and in the presence 
of a vast concourse of spectators. The following is a particular 
account of the engagement of Lieut. Boyd and his party with the 
Indians, and of the cruelties subsequently practiced upon him: 

" When the party arrived at Williamsbnrgh, they found 
that the Indians had very recently left the place, as the fires 
in their huts were still burning. The night was so far spent 
when they got to the place of their destination, that the 
gallant Boyd, considering the fatigue of his men, concluded to 
remain quietly where he was, near the village, sleeping upon 
their arms, till the next morning, and then to despatch two 
messengers with a report to the camp. Accordingly, a little 
before daybreak, he sent two men to the main body of the 
army, with information that the enemy had not been dis- 
covered, but were supposed to be not far distant, from the 
fires they found burning the evening before. 

" After day-light, Lieut. Boyd and his men cautiously crept 
from the place of their concealment, and upon getting a view 
of the village, discovered two Indians lurking about the 



NOTES. 77 

settlement ; one of whom was immediately shot and scalped 
by one of the riflemen, by the name of Murphy. Lieut. 
Boyd — supposing now that if there were Indians near they 
would be aroused by the report of the rifle, and possibly by a 
perception of what liad just taken place, the scalping of the 
Indian — tliought it most prudent to retire and make his best 
way back to the main army. They accordingly set out, and 
retraced the steps they had taken the evening before. 

" On tlieir arriving within about one mile and a half of the 
main army, they were surprised by the sudden appearance of 
a body of Indians, to the amount of five hundred, under the 
command of Brandt, and the same number of rangers, com- 
manded by the infamous Butler, who had secreted themselves 
in a ravine of considerable extent, which lay across the track 
that Lieut. Boyd had pursued. These two leaders of the 
enemy had not lost sight of the American army since their 
appalling defeat at the Narrows above Newtown, though they 
had not shown themselves till now. With what dismay they 
must have witnessed the destruction of their towns and the 
fruits of their fields, that marked the progress of our army ! 
They dare not, however, any more come in contact with the 
main army, whatever should be the consequence of their for- 
bearance. 

" Lieut. Boyd and his little heroic party, upon discovering 
the enemy, knowing that the only chance for their escape 
would be by breaking through their lines, an enterprise of 
most desperate undertaking, made the bold attempt. As 



78 



NOTES. 



extraordinary as it may seem, the first onset, tliongli nnsuc- 
cessful, was made without the loss of a man on the part of the 
heroic band, though several of the enemy were killed. Two 
attempts more were made, which were equally unsuccessful, 
and in which the whole party fell, except Lieut. Boyd and 
eight others. Boyd, and a soldier hy the name of Parker, 
were taken prisoners on the spot ; a part of the remainder 
fled, and a part fell on the ground apparently dead, and were 
overlooked by the Indians, who were too much engaged in 
pursuing the fugitives to notice those who fell. 

" When Lieut. Boyd found himself a prisoner, he solicited 
an interview with Brandt, preferring, it seems, to throw him- 
self upon the clemency and fidelity of the savage leader of the 
enemy, rather than trust to his civilized colleague. The chief, 
who was at that moment near, immediately presented himself, 
when Lieut. Boyd, by one of those appeals and tokens which 
are known only by those who have been initiated and instructed 
in certain mysteries, and which never fail to bring succor to a 
distressed brother, addressed him as tlie only source from 
which he could • expect respite from cruel punishment or 
death. The appeal was recognized, and Brandt immediately, 
and in the strongest language, assured him that his life should 
be spared. 

" Boyd and his fellow-prisoner were conducted immediately 
by a party of the Indians to the Indian village, called Beards- 
town, after a distinguished chief of that name, on the west 
side of the Genesee river, and in what is now called Leicester. 



NOTES. 79 

After their arrival at Beardstown, Brandt, being called on 
service which required a few hours' absence, left them in the 
care of Col. Butler. The latter, as soon as Brandt had left 
theni, commenced an interrogation, to obtain from the 
prisoners a statement of the number, situation and intentions 
of the army under Sullivan ; and threatened them, in ease 
they hesitated or prevaricated in their answers, to deliver 
them up immediately to be massacred by the Indians; who, 
in Brandt's absence, and with the encouragement of their 
more savage commander, Butler, were ready to commit the 
greatest cruelties. Relying probably upon the promises which 
Brandt had made them, and which he most likely intended to 
fulfill, they refused to give Butler the desired information. 
Upon this refusal, burning with revenge, Butler hastened to 
put his threat into execution. He delivered them to some of 
their most ferocious euemies, among which the Indian chief 
Little Beard was distinguished for his inventive ferocity. In 
this, that was about to take place, as well as in all the other 
scenes of cruelty that were perpetrated in his town. Little 
Beard was master of ceremonies. The stoutest heart quails 
under the apprehension of immediate and certain torture and 
death ; where, too, there is not an eye that pities, nor a heart 
that feels. The suffering Lieut, was first stripped of his 
clothing, and then tied to a sapling, when the Indians 
menaced his life by throwing their tomahawks at the tree 
directly over his head, brandishing their scalping knives 
around him in the most frightful njanner, and accompanying 



80 



NOTES. 



their ceremonies witli terrific sliouts of joy. Having punislied 
him sufficiently in this way, they made a small oiaening in his 
abdomen, took out an intestine, which they tied to a sapling, 
and then unbound him from the tree, and by scourges, drove 
him around it till he had drawn out the whole of his intes- 
tines. He was then beheaded, and his head was stuck upon a 
pole, with a dog's head just above it, and his body left 
unburied upon the ground. 

" Thus perished Thomas Boyd, a young officer of heroic 
virtue, and of rising talents ; and in a manner that will touch 
the sympathies of all who read the story of his death. His 
fellow-soldier, and fellow-sufferer, Parker, was obliged to 
witness this moving and tragical scene, and in full expectation 
of passing the same ordeal. 

" According, however, to our information, in relation to the 

death of these two men, which has been obtained incidentally 

from the Indian account of it, corroborated by the discovery 

of the two bodies by the American army, Parker was only 

beheaded." 

IVilkinson's Annals of Binghampton, pp. 34—38. ; 
See also 

Stone's Life of Brandt, Vol. 2, pp. 29-33. 

Life ofJemison, pp. 121-122 and p. 291. 

Simms' Schoharie Co., pp. 312-13. 

Life of Van Campen, pp. 160-173. 

Notices of Sullivan's Campaign. 

The following additional facts respecting Lieut. Boyd were obtained 
from Josias E. Yrooman, who witnessed the parting scene therein 
described : 

" Lieut. Boyd was a native of Northumberland County, 



NOTES. 81 

Pennsylvania. He was about the usual height, and was a 
stout built, fine looking young man; being very sociable and 
agreeable in his manners, which had gained him many friends 
in Schoharie. While there, he paid his addresses to Miss 
Cornelia, a daughter of Bartholomew Becker, who gave birth 
to a daughter after his death, of which he was the reputed 
father. This child, named Catharine, grew up a very 
respectable woman, and afterwards became the wife of 
Martinus Vrooman. While the troops under Col. Butler 
were preparing to leave Schoharie, Miss Becker, in a state of 
mind bordering on phrensy, approached her lover, caught hold 
of his arm, and in tears besought him by the most earnest 
entreaties, to marry her before he left Schoharie. He 
endeavored to put her oft" with future promises, and to free 
himself from her grasp. She told him " if he went ofl^ 
without marrying her, she hoiked he would he cut to irieces 
hy the Indiansy In the midst of this unpleasant scene, 
Col, Butler rode up and reprimanded Boyd for his delay, as 
the troops were ready to march — and the latter, mortified 
at being seen by his commander, thus importuned by a 
girl, drew his sword and threatened to stab her if she did 
not instantly leave him. She did leave him, and antici- 
pating future shame, called down the vengeance of heaven 
upon him. Her imprecation was answered, as has been 
seen, to the fullest extent : a fearful warning to those who 
trifle with woman's aftections.'' 

Simms' Hist, of Schoharie Co., p. 300. 



82 NOTES. 

(21) The following extract, from an English writer, gives one of the 
best descriptions which we have met witli, of the personal appearance 
and character of the " Father of his country " : 

sf: if: :(: :tc :i: :+: 

" General Washington is now in the forty-eighth year of 
his age. He is a tall, well-made man, rather large boned, and 
has a tolerably genteel address, his features are manly and 
bold, his eyes of a bluish cast, and very lively ; his hair a 
deep brown, his face rather long, and marked with the small- 
pox ; his complexion sun-burnt, and without much color, and 
his countenance sensible, composed, and thoughtful. There 
is a remarkable air of dignity about him, with a striking 
degree of gracefulness ; he has an excellent understanding, 
without much quickness ; is strictly just, vigilant, and gene- 
rous ; ah affectionate husband, a faithful friend, a father to 
the deserving soldier, gentle in his manners, in temper rather 
reserved ; a total stranger to religious prejudices, which have 
so often excited Christians of one denomination to cut the 
throats of those of another. In his morals he is irreproach- 
able, and was never known to exceed the bounds of the most 
rigid temperance. In a word, all his friends and acquaint- 
ances universally allow, that no man ever united in his own 
character a more perfect alliance of tlie virtues of the philoso- 
pher with the talents of a general. Candor, sincerity, affa- 
bility, and simplicity, seem to be the striking features of his 
character, until an occasion offers of displaying the most 
determined bravery and independence of spirit." 

London Chronicle, July 'I'l, 1780. 



NOTES. 83 

(22) Gilbert Mottier, Marquis de La Fayette, was born 
in Chavaniac, in the ancient province of Auvergne, in France, 
Sept. 6, 1757. He was descended from distinguished ances- 
tors, and was the inheritor of a princely fortune. He was 
educated at Paris, and at the age of 17 married the Countess 
Anastasie de Noailles, by whom he received a large accession 
to his estate. In the year 1777, the most gloomy period of 
the American struggle, this young nobleman, then only 19 
years of age, actuated by a love of liberty as pure as it was 
ardent, left the luxuries of the court, and the endearments of 
his young wife, and in opposition to the wishes of his friends 
and the orders of his sovereign, embarked for America, in a 
vessel fitted out by himself, to aid a people to whom he was 
bound by no tie of tongue or kindred, and who were then too 
poor to offer him even a transport to their shores. Upon his 
arrival in America, he offered himself to Congress as a volun- 
teer, solicited permission to serve without pay, and raised and 
equipped a body of men at his own expense. In July he was 
appointed by Congress a Major-General, and in September he 
served as a volunteer at the battle of Brandywine, in which 
engagement he was severely wounded. After his recovery he 
joined Gen. Greene in New Jersey, and in the battle of Mon- 
moutli, in 1778, he rendered most important services, for 
which he received the thanks of Congress. He continued 
actively employed in different parts of the country until 1779, 
when he went to France, and after securing aid from that 
quarter, returned to America. He immediately resumed his 



84: NOTES. 

command, and in the campaigns of 1Y80 and 1781, displayed 
the most consummate generalship. At the siege of Yorktown 
he shared in the dangers and honors of the day, and after the 
capitulation of Cornwallis, left again for France. He was 
about to return to America with a powerful fleet and army, 
when he received the glorious news of the overtures of peace. 
In 1784 he visited America, and after spending a few days at 
Mount Vernon, traveled through the principal cities of the 
Union, receiving everywhere the honors that were his due. 
After his return to France, he held a number of prominent 
positions, both civil and military. In the year 1824, he again 
visited America, where he was received with the most enthu- 
siastic demonstrations of respect and affection. Congress 
made him a grant of 200,000 dollars and a township of land, 
and he was carried home in the frigate Brandy wine, so named 
in honor of his bravery in that memorable battle. After liis 
return to France he again engaged in public affairs, taking an 
active part in the revolution of 1830, at which time he became 
marshal of France. 

" Gen. Lafayette was about six feet in stature. He was 
considered one of the finest looking men in the American 
army, notwithstanding his deep red hair, which then, as now, 
was rather in disrepute. His forehead was tine though 
receding — his eye clear hazel — his mouth and chin delicately 
formed and exhibiting beauty rather than strength. The 
expression of his countenance was strongly indicative of tiie 
generous and gallant spirit which animated him, mingled with 



NOTES. 85 

something of the pride of conscious manliness. His mien 
was noble — his manners frank and amiable, and his move- 
mentslight and graceful. He wore his hair plain, and never 
complied so far with the fashion of the times as to wear 
powder." 

After a long and eventful career, tliis devoted friend of 
Washington and America died at Paris, on the 20th day of 
May, 1834, in the TTth year of his age. Admired and honored 
in life, he died universally lamented, leaving behind him a 
name which the proudest monarch may envy and the most 
ambitious warrior well emulate — that of a disinterested, noble 
minded and consistent patriot. Dearly beloved as he was, 
his memory will ever be fresh in the heart of every true 
friend to his country. 

(03) Ebenezer Fletcher, as we have before remarked, was 
married in the year 1786 to Miss Polly Cummings. The father 
of this lady, Mr. Samuel Cummings, was at that time a resi- 
dent of New Ipswich, and owner of the mills at Mill Village. 
He carried on the mills successfully for a number of years, 
and then sold them out to Mr. Fletcher, who had learned the 
trade of him. Mr. Cummings subsequently moved to Cornish, 
N. H., and died there on the sixth day of June, 1796, at the 
age of seventy-eight years. Mr. Fletcher, by his first 
wife, who died on the 26th day of February, 1812, had six 
sons and six daughters, whose names and places of birth and 
death are as follows : 



86 



NOTES. 



Born in Ne.ie Ipswich, N.H. Died. 

1st. Ebenezeb, Jr .Oct. 9, 1782. .Nov. 14, 1834, in 

2d. CuMMiNGS July 5, 1784. .July 22,1837, " 

3d. John Aug. 14,1786. .July 10,1842, " 

4th. Polly Aug. 21, 1788. . Aug. 27, 1840, " 

5th. Joseph May 22,1790. .Feb. 18,1863, " 

6th. Betsey Dec. 28,1792. .May 5,1842, " 

7th. Sally) ^ . „.„,„„, j July 17,18,54, " 

, ,, > Twms.YeiX). 6,1794 ■{ „ ,_„, ,, 

8th. Milly( / " 11,1794, " 

9th. Nancy May 22, 1797. .. .Still living " 

10th. Dexter Ap'l 19,1799 ' 

nth. SuKY May 30,1801. .Aug. 13, 1803, " 

12th. RoBY June 16, 1803 Still living " 



Corinth, N. H. 
Enosburg, Vt. 
Ann Arbor, Mich. 
Illinois. 

Ashburnham, Mass. 
Boston, Mass. 
New Ipswich, N.H. 



Mt. Vernon, 
New Ipswich, 



Mr. Fletcher's second wife was Mrs. Mary Foster, widow of 
Nathaniel Foster, and daughter of Asa Kendall. She had no 
children by Mr. Fletcher. By her first husband she had two 
sons and five daughters. She was a member of the Baptist 
church for many years, and sustained a good Christian 
character. She survived her husband, Mr. Fletcher, a num- 
ber of years, and died in Winchendon, Mass., January. 25th, 
1851, at the age of 85 years. 




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